


Thy Body A Feast

by woodelf



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Baby Ullr Says Hi, Breastfeeding, Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), F/M, Loki Redemption (Marvel), Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Loki enjoys the taste of his wife's body, and Sif reciprocates.
Relationships: Loki/Sif
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	Thy Body A Feast

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the SifkiWeek20 prompt "indulge".

“Come on, just a little bit more?” Sif coaxed, trying to get Ullr to latch on again. Ullr turned his face away from her breast, squirming and kicking his legs.

Sif sighed. “I know; you don’t like the heat. You’re going to be your daddy’s little boy, aren’t you?” She rose and laid Ullr back down in his cradle, her right breast still uncomfortably full of milk. She’d have to express some, or she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Absently she pulled the shoulder of her sleeveless tunic back up, the idea of fetching a bowl and milking herself like a cow not having any particular appeal. Not when she could think of a more pleasant way to go about it. 

“Loki,” she called, going into the study. Loki immediately pushed back his desk chair, setting down his pen and looking up at her inquiringly. Sif seated herself on his lap, and his arms came up to wrap around her waist, holding her secure. “Your son won’t finish his dinner; what are you going to do about it?” She slid her hand under his hair and cupped the nape of his neck, using her thumb to massage the tight muscle she habitually found there. 

"Why is he always 'my' son in situations like these?" he demanded, but there was no real ire in his words. Being a father was still new enough that just hearing the words "your son" was enough to send a thrill of pride and wonder through him. "And what do you want me to do about it? Tell him he can’t go out to play until he finishes his meal to your satisfaction?" He canted his head slightly to the side, offering more of his neck to her touch. Receiving impromptu neck rubs without even having to ask for them was just one of the things that he liked about being married. "Is he all right?”

“He’s fine; it’s just the heat making him fussy so he’s not that hungry. Which is why he’s your son right now. But he had some, and he’ll probably make up for it at his next feed. But for now, I’m lopsided and uncomfortable and I need to get rid of some milk.” She pulled her tunic back down again, baring and cupping her heavy, still milk-swollen breast as if in offering. “I thought you might like a taste, no point in wasting it.” She squeezed her nipple lightly and nearly shuddered from the stimulation, hypersensitive from having to nurse Ullr every couple of hours. 

Loki’s gaze went from her breast to her face and back to her breast again, the nipple and surrounding areola darker than they used to be, contrasting beautifully against her pale skin, focusing his attention. He parted his lips and his tongue came out to wet them. What with the frequent feedings, Sif had understandably been disinterested in any further breast play since Ullr's birth, but he was more than happy to seize this opportunity to indulge himself in the name of providing her some relief. Plus, he had to admit he'd been curious about what her milk would taste like, but it had seemed wrong to ask and take any nourishment away from his son. His voice was low and husky when he spoke. “Well, as a responsible father, I must of course make up for my son’s poor manners in not finishing his meal. And as a dutiful husband, I must do my best to ease my lady’s discomfort.” 

He lifted up one of his hands from her waist, and Sif let her hand drop away as his replaced it, his long fingers deftly kneading her breast, coaxing her milk down towards her nipple. Sif felt the warning tingle as the pressure shifted. “Lo--.” 

He leaned forward as the first beads of milk appeared, and then his mouth was on her, warm and wet and sucking, and what had started out as his name turned into a soft gasp. His eyes flicked up to her, questioning, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, keeping him from moving his head. "Good," she assured him, already feeling the relief as the tightness in her breast eased. He swallowed, his tongue pressing against her as he suckled, and the gentle rhythmic tug of it was like a line of pleasure connecting straight to her core. She shifted upon his lap, letting his thigh press up between her legs. "You're gentler than your son,” she murmured. “He doesn't know or care how hard his gums are."

Loki huffed a laugh through his nose, the taste of Sif's milk surprisingly sweet upon his tongue; that she would share the gift of it touching something deep within him. He felt her bend over him, her lips pressing to the top of his head, her hand cradling his skull, her fingers sliding through his hair, and he thought that this must be how Ullr felt when he nursed, held safe and surrounded by love. She shifted again, and Loki's eyes flicked down, and then up again, watching her expression as he experimentally brought one hand down to press a knuckle firmly up against the top of her cleft. 

"Mm, yes, there." She rocked against the pressure slowly.

Gradually the flow of milk slowed, Sif’s breast softening, and Loki somewhat reluctantly let her slip out of his mouth and glanced up questioningly. "Is that enough?"

"Yes, that's much better, thank you." Sif’s voice sounded dreamy, lost in a pleasurable haze.

Loki dragged his thumb over the wet flesh of her nipple -- longer and thicker than it had once been -- and Sif’s hips jerked against his hand. "And is there something else my wife might desire?" he inquired with a knowing look.

"Mm, I would not object to the services of your mouth elsewhere on my body." She tucked a lock of his hair back behind his ear. 

"Elsewhere, hm? Here?" He leaned forward and kissed her lips.

Willingly Sif opened her mouth to him, and tasted herself on his tongue. She chased after the flavour, burying her hand in his hair, feeling his hand splay out on her back, keeping her close. "I will gladly accept all such kisses," she said when they parted, sucking gently at his lip. "But that was not where I was thinking of."

Loki lowered his head, and brushed his lips against her throat. "Here?" His eyes glinted with mischief as he moved down to her collarbones. "Or here?"

Sif groaned. "The time to go slow and tease is not when we have an infant in the next room, Loki. If he interrupts us before you get to where I need you, I shall not be best pleased."

"Ah, someplace lower, then." 

"Lower," she agreed.

"Would I perhaps need to remove your leggings?" He tugged at the knot of her laces. 

She beamed at him. "Clever boy. I knew you would figure it out." 

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Perhaps we should adjourn to the bed, then?" He gave her a nudge and she slid off of his lap. 

"An excellent idea." Sif took his hand and led him into the bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed and holding out one foot to him. "Boots," she said simply.

"What am I, your servant?" he asked without rancour, already tugging her boot off. 

"I thought it would be faster." 

"Impatient, are we?"

"We are," she confirmed. "I have an extraordinarily handsome husband who is renowned for his skill with his tongue; can you blame me?"

Pleased, Loki grinned. "I thought it was my skill with words that earned me that moniker." He tossed her second boot onto the floor. 

"Oh. Well." She smiled at him brilliantly as she loosened the laces of her leggings. "Lucky me that I know you are multi-talented in your use of it." She lifted her hips for him as he took hold of her waistbands and pulled both leggings and braies down her legs and off at the same time, baring her to his gaze.

The musky scent of her arousal immediately wafted up to Loki and he wasted no time in settling himself between her legs, letting the scent draw him in to lick and to suck until she was squirming beneath his touch. He felt her fingers delve into his hair again, flexing restlessly against his skull, and the small nubbin of her flesh swelled and hardened further under his tongue as she grew tense and then still, and he was ready for the sudden high arching of her hips off of the bed, her body clamping down around him as he thrust his fingers into her. He waited until her hips had sagged back down onto the mattress and the last spasm rippled around his fingers before drawing them out and sucking them clean. 

“Mm, delicious.” 

Sif turned her head to look at him, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. 

Loki reclined on his side, and unlaced his breeches while he waited for her to recover. It was a relief to take his cock out, and stroke himself. 

Sif’s gaze sharpened with interest, and she rolled onto her own side to watch him. Seeing her paying attention, he shifted his grip, his lazy motions less about pleasuring himself and more about showing himself off to his best advantage, she thought. Not that that was much of a challenge, he was beautifully shaped, long and thick and alabaster-skinned, already curving slightly upwards. She knew the solid weight of him in her hand, and the taste of him upon her tongue. Her lassitude fled. “Want me to take over?”

Loki feigned indifference. “If you like.” 

Sif’s eyes glinted with mischief. “What if I don’t?”

Loki gave her his saddest puppy dog eyes. “Then I would be forced to tell Ullr how inconsiderate his mother is.” 

“Well, I can’t have that, not after you have taken such good care of me.” Sif moved towards him, and pushed him flat onto his back. Loki went without protest, looking up at her with eyes that were wide and expectant. She regarded his still-clothed form for a second, weighing the pleasure of slowly stripping him with the awareness that Ullr might demand attention at any time. 

"Shirt off," she decided, compromising in the name of expediency. Loki had already removed all but his linen tunic in deference to the warm weather, his public duties done for the day, and he promptly vanished it with a flicker of magic. 

"Mm, much better." She took him in hand, pumping slowly, leisurely, the glide of her flesh on his smoothed by the moisture she gathered from between her legs. There was strength written in every hard line of his whipcord lean body, and yet an elegant beauty, too, and she drank in the sight of him appreciatively, feeling the mix of emotions that she often did in such moments. Lying there letting her tend to him, he still exuded...power was the first word that came to her mind, but that wasn't quite right. Confidence, she decided. Not the confidence in his skills that he had always had, in the deadliness of his bright sharp knives and his magic and his ability to talk his way out of most situations, but a new self confidence of his place in Asgard and within his family. And surprisingly he had gained it with Thor's ascension to the throne. 

It had been a near thing, she remembered as she took a moment to play with Loki’s balls, shifting his laces up and over them, watching his eyes half shutter with pleasure. Odin -- weary with age and the burdens of state, and fed up with Thor's reluctance to take up his responsibilities -- had finally informed his sons that it was time that one of them stepped up and took on the duties of rule; he had raised them both to be kings and was perfectly willing to crown either one of them. Then he had given them one week to sort it out between themselves as to which one of them would take the throne. She smiled as she recalled Loki's disbelief as he'd related it to her, questioning whether Odin would really entrust the realm of Asgard to a frost giant, the truth of which he'd learned only a couple of years previously. Not to a frost giant, she had countered immediately, but to his _son_ , and thought it was only then that Loki had truly believed with his whole heart that his father had meant it every time he stated that Loki was his son just as much as Thor was.

And as shocked as she had been when that secret had come out, she had found she couldn't see him as anything else either. Despite the prickly state of their relationship at the time, all it had taken was for her to see Loki terrified and vulnerable with his sense of identity shattered around him for all of her protective instincts to come rushing to the fore. What was one or two days of a babe's life on Jotunheim compared to a millennia of growing up in Asgard, after all? If the king and queen claimed him as their son -- and never mind Odin, she couldn't imagine looking Frigga in the eye and suggesting that she wasn't really Loki's mother -- then who was she to argue? And that meant that he was her prince, every bit as much as Thor, and she had stood by him loyally during his week on the throne while Odin had slept, and as he and his family had worked to rebuild the broken bonds of trust between them afterwards. In so doing, Sif had rediscovered the boy she had once liked so well behind the defensive walls that Loki had erected over the years, and the renewal of their friendship had soon become something more.

Shifting to lay between Loki's legs, and enjoying the ability to lay on her stomach once again, she recalled how he had been further shocked when Thor -- who had doubted his worthiness to be king ever since his reckless invasion of Jotunheim had caused his brother so much pain -- had promptly offered the throne to Loki, declaring himself content with leading Asgard's armies. And, oh, Loki had been tempted, Sif knew, but he had already proven himself capable of ruling in difficult circumstances, and had been more glad than not to hand Gungnir back over when Odin had awaken. He no longer felt so overshadowed by the quieter, more thoughtful version of Thor that had returned from his monthlong exile on Midgard, and the thought of a lifetime spent in the spotlight that was always focused on the king had not appealed. And he had understood that the increase in power would come with a decrease in freedom, something that Thor had only glumly come to fully realise after he'd finally agreed to take the throne on the condition that Loki would be his Chancellor and the head of his ruling council, and the coronation had gone ahead without a hitch. Afterwards, Loki had immediately set to work sharpening Thor's political skills and, along with Odin, helping him learn to control what was now called the Thorforce, hampered as Thor was by his lack of magical training. In return Thor had made sure that Loki's accomplishments were seen and acknowledged, and it hadn't been long before all in the inner court knew the king and the crown prince wielded near equal power, and often passed duties back and forth to each other, the former king and queen near bursting with pride as they watched their sons work together guiding Asgard into a new era.

And knowing himself both valued and needed, Loki had flourished in his new position, the increased responsibilities settling most attractively upon his broad shoulders. Sif watched him through her lashes as she wrapped her hand firmly about the base of his cock and mouthed at the silken head, thinking about the fact that the crown prince of Asgard and the reckoned most powerful sorcerer in the Nine Realms was hers to do with as she pleased, but hard on the heels of that intoxicating thought came a rush of tenderness, because he was also her husband, and the father of her child, and all she wanted to do was to give him so much pleasure that he forgot his own name. She pulled back briefly, debating whether she wanted his trousers off as well, but decided that she liked the contrast of his pale skin against the black leather.

“Are you ready for me to drink you down?” she asked, a promise in her low voice.

Loki’s hips hitched upwards at her words, his cock throbbing with arousal. “ _Please_. I only regret I cannot offer you such sweet sustenance as you gave me.” 

“Your honeyed words will more than make up for it,” she assured him, urging his thighs apart. He drew his one knee up, giving her more room, and she turned her head to press a kiss against the inside of his thigh, breathing in the scent of the taut, supple leather stretched over it.

“Shall I continue to laud your praises as you pleasure me? Shall I tell you how beautiful you are, how fierce your spirit, how -- “ Heat engulfed him as Sif took him into her mouth, her eyes remaining fixed steadily on him as her cheeks hollowed around him. 

She smirked up at him, and pulled back, her tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft. “Go on,” she encouraged, and went back to her work, giving him the suction that he’d been craving. 

“How...how strong you are, not just in arms but in conviction. How -- mm, how much it means to me to -- mm, yes, there -- know that you will always have my back whether in battle or at court.” She let his cock slip from her mouth again, and his thoughts scattered at the sight of himself, flushed with need and shiny from her saliva. She kissed and licked her way down his shaft, not neglecting his balls, and mouthed at their roundness as they twitched in their sac. Her eyebrows rose expectantly as she glanced up at him again, finding him a little wild-eyed, his gaze rapt upon her. 

“Anything else?”

“Your mouth is exquisite,” he managed. “And -- ahhh -- “ He couldn’t help thrusting up, his cock so hard it ached. “Your tongue should have...paeans sung in its praise.” His breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. 

Sif snorted, and Loki reached down in an attempt to slide his fingers into her hair, frustrated by her leather hair tie, nearly whining when she lifted away again to speak. 

“You must be rubbing off on me,” she said, and then grinned. “Figuratively as well as literally.” 

“Sif.” He couldn’t take any more teasing. “Please.” 

"Mm. Since you asked so nicely..." She bent her head and tongued at his slit, lapping up the first drops of pre-come, and then gave him what he needed and took him in deeper, sucking hard and steadily while one of her hands wrapped snugly around the base of his shaft and began to stroke in rhythm with her mouth. His hips arched off the bed without his bidding, but Sif was ready to ruthlessly push them back down and he didn’t fight her, successfully tugging her ponytail loose and burying his hands in her hair, the strands that fell forward to brush against his skin just one more stimulation. He had no more words for her then, just the soft sounds of his pleasure, as his muscles clenched and sensation built and his gaze grew unfocused as he tried to hold onto that exquisite moment right before climax for as long as he could. He called her name in warning when he felt his pleasure cresting, and she looked back up, and he crashed over the edge into ecstasy with her eyes locked upon his. 

Sif swallowed, nursed him through his aftershocks, and then licked him clean when she felt all the tension go out of him, his eyes closing as he relaxed back into the mattress. She crawled up to lay beside him when she was done, resting her head on his chest and laying one hand on his flat belly, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing slowly calm. Loki lifted his hand and gestured, and his leather trousers changed into a pair of soft sleep pants. Sif hummed approvingly and turned her head to press a kiss against the bare skin of his chest and lazily traced her fingers along the contours of muscle and bone. 

Loki yawned, suddenly feeling like he could drift right off to sleep, and chuckled when Sif immediately did the same, her eyes closing contentedly. Ullr was quiet and the bed was comfortable, and he had nothing pressing that he needed to get back to and finish tonight. “Would you care to join me in a nap?” he suggested. 

“That sounds wonderful.” Sif yawned again. “Babies are tiring; I’ll be glad when Ullr can sleep through the night; a few more months according to your mother.” 

“Would you ever want another one?” Loki curled a lock of her hair around his finger. 

“Mm, I think I could manage another one; it would be nice for Ullr to have a sibling.”

“Just one? We could have a whole troop of our own little warriors,’ Loki suggested.

“Two,” said Sif firmly. “Maaaybe three, but I reserve the right to change my mind. Ask me again when Ullr’s out of diapers.” She opened her eyes briefly to glance up at Loki in curiosity. “What about you? Do you want a whole troop of your own little sorcerers?” 

“I’d like a little girl,” Loki admitted. “But other than that, I would gladly welcome as many children as you wish to honour me with.” 

Sif smiled, imagining Loki cradling a little daughter. “Well, I will do my best. You’re quite right; it’s time and past some girls were born into this family.”

“I used to sometimes think it would be nice to have a little sister, when I was a child,” he admitted. “Someone who would look up to me the way I looked up to Thor. Someone with whom I could share my magic. But then -- ” He gave a wry smile in remembrance. “Then there were the times when my mother would call me her little one -- even after I had grown taller than her -- and I was glad that I never had to give up that title.” 

“And now you have your own little one,” Sif’s lips curved up, and she traced the sharp jut of his hipbone. 

“I do. I never thought I would have -- not after I learned what I was.” 

She looked up, hearing the vulnerability in his voice, knowing how worried he had been waiting for Ullr's arrival.

“I would never have asked a woman to marry me unknowing my heritage, and I could not imagine anyone learning of it and still being willing to tie herself to me. And moreover,” he continued, when Sif lifted her head off his chest and opened her mouth to speak, “I most certainly would not have risked siring a potential monster on her. But then there was you.” He gestured somewhat helplessly, still, sometimes, unable to believe that she had accepted him and all that he was. 

“First of all,” Sif said, low and fierce, “No children of ours will ever be a monster, no matter the colour of their skin. Secondly -- “ Her expression turned sharp and wolflike. “When has a risky enterprise ever deterred me ? Thirdly -- your mother seemed quite certain that everything would turn out fine.” 

“She did,” Loki agreed, remembering his own conversation with his mother. He would have agreed that it seemed _likely_ that a child would bear the traits of his shapeshifted form, but he had seen sure knowledge in her eyes. _The future will work out,_ they had assured him. _Take a chance_. “And when I asked her if she had seen something in her weaving, of course she had to remind me that she couldn’t speak of what she saw.” He urged Sif’s head back down to his chest and stroked her hair, letting the silken strands slip through his fingers. “But oh, the look on her face. I wanted whatever it was that she had seen.” 

“Is it as good as you hoped?”

Loki couldn’t help the contented smile that spread across his face. “No.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her brow, knowing just how very lucky he was. “It’s even better.” 


End file.
